Paragon
by Leelhiette
Summary: AU. He sat alone in the rain, crying tears of blood. Then, a hand reached out to him. [TG:re]
1. Chapter 1: Route One

**Author's Notes:** Hello, readers! I've written another TG story. Don't worry, I haven't abandoned "Daybreak" or "A Swordsman's Road" or "Cloudburst". I'm still fixing some things in their chapters that I haven't noticed since I've been busy with uni and upcoming OJT applications this summer. So, for the mean time, enjoy this one in their place. I've been having a hard time accessing this account for the past few days for some reason but, thankfully, it is now working flawlessly again. Though, because of a friend, I've wandered over to AO3 for some time and absolutely fell in love with the TG stories there. Though, *cries loudly*, I can't seem to join yet due to some system maintenance that has yet to be resolved. If I ever finally made an account there, my stories will make their appearance there. I swear. I want to share them there too.

**Warning(s):** This world is set in Tokyo Ghoul:re. So, if you haven't read the manga, I'm warning you about confusion and possible spoilers. Also, this is a Canon-Divergence. This is set **before** Sasaki Haise met the Quinx. Also, **Gore. Angst. Drama. Possible tragedy.** The format is a bit jumbled up but I managed to fix it, hopefully.

**Pairing(s):** GEN. Hints, maybe. But, strictly, **GEN**. (And, no, I don't write yaoi, sorry, even if I'm a reader/fan of them)

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><p>"Prove it to me, Haise." The man told him, eyes piercing as his words.<p>

He didn't move. He remained firmly on the ground on his hands and knees. For some reason, he couldn't look up and stare the man right in the eye. After all, he certainly didn't have the right. Not now and never would.

"This is the path that I've chosen," He gritted out as he closed his eyes. "Arima-san," He bit his lip at the familiar address.

"Are those memories that precious to you?" Arima asked him as he crouched in front of the two toned haired youth.

Haise felt himself bristle despite himself. The white haired man already knew the answer to that. He knew that Arima was purposely mocking him. The words innocently uttered were a sharp knife straight through to him. Still, _still_. He couldn't bring himself to look at the man.

Opening and letting his eyes rest on the quinque, _Narukami_, in Arima's hand, his fate had never felt as fragile as it did at that moment.

"I'm simply being selfish." Haise murmured as he continued to stare at the weapon.

At that, Arima hummed as he stood up, bringing Narukami with him, and Haise watched, transfixed, as the hand around the handle tightened. This day, it might be the last show of emotion stronger than he'd ever see of his mentor.

"It takes a selfish person to recognize another one." The man quoted quietly, lowering his head and staring down at him through snow colored locks.

"I'm not backing down," He merely responded, closing his eyes again.

Suddenly, he felt the edge of Narukami rest by his shoulder, unnervingly too close to his neck for comfort.

_If I die today,_ he recited in his head. _I die as Haise_.

Somehow, that—

It sounds fitting. Too fitting for someone like him. Would Arima really grant him that reprieve? After all, death was too easy. Too effortless. Both he and the man were believers that there was beauty in death. It's something to be respected, to be looked on with grey eyes.

Though, he'd already come far.

"I'm so sorry, Arima-san," He said softly as he opened his eyes, whether to the man or to himself, he was still undecided. "Thank you. For everything." He told the man sincerely as he gently grabbed the long end of the quinque and finally stood up.

Throughout it all, Arima didn't move and just watched him with an impassive gaze.

"You shouldn't thank someone who ruined you."

**~o~**

He stumbled blindly and collapsed on the nearest wall he could find.

The rain was particularly hard today and, while it somehow dampened his already faulty sense of smell, he could still discern the foul odor of garbage. Heedlessly extending his arm, his hand came into contact with what seemed to be a large plastic container. So, he was currently stuck in an unknown alley beside a dumpster. Soaked to the bone in the rain. Alone. With nothing but his clothes, some few meagre belongings and himself.

He could live with that.

Shivering against the cold that had settled, he slid down the wall and hugged his folded legs to his chest. The pain in his eyes was still burning and he pressed his face on his knees in hopes of lessening the pressure.

It did nothing of the sort.

The sound of heavy rain filled his ears. The strange stillness it brought him was relaxing. But, it wasn't enough to let his guard down. He didn't know how long he'd been on the run but he certainly knew that the next time he encountered anyone from the CCG, the most vulnerable part of him would always be his eyes. Though, he knew that he hadn't been successful in his attempt of building the desired impression he wanted on the Aogiri.

A waste of hard work.

If CCG hadn't interfered when they did, then maybe he could've gotten what he needed. Still, remembering his last encounter with them left a very bad taste in his mouth. His situation had been tragic already as it was. Apparently, they decided that it wasn't enough. That Aogiri's atrocious deeds weren't enough.

Arima had never been a liar. Why would he start now?

It was never about trust. He knew that from the very beginning. If it was, then he wouldn't be in this situation right now. Even as he curled and compressed himself to a ball, the world was still moving on and he had to keep up with it. If he was more honest with himself, even he didn't know what he was originally after. Certainly, after all these months, that was how he gradually felt over time.

His current state was something he had to get accustomed now.

He sat alone in the rain, crying tears of blood.

"A-Are you alright?" A shaky voice called out to him and his head snapped up.

There was a sharp inhale but no scream had pierced his eardrums. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of person had seen him. After all, he was very sure that he appeared as someone who came out of a horror novel. Tattered clothing clung to his skin and while the rain had obviously washed the blood away, some of his wounds had yet to heal. The most apparent being the large bleeding gash on his left shoulder. He had stopped wincing as the rain mercilessly pelted on it.

Still, if that wasn't telling enough, then the continuous stream of crimson fluid slithering down his cheeks from two heavily closed eyelids was.

"Yes." He lied as a hand distractedly rubbed his chin.

"You're not." The voice, a female, angrily rebutted.

"Look, miss, I'm really fine." He gently placated as he tilted his head, oh how he wished he could see right now so he could come up with a better response to the situation. Expressions would certainly be helpful. "You shouldn't concern yourself with a stray like me." He told her firmly as he pressed a hand towards his eyes.

The sharp sting was enough to ground him to reality.

He really needed to get out of here if people could locate him this easily. Though, he'd been sure that the alley and the nearby blocks were devoid of anyone. Thanks to the rain. While his sense of smell wasn't as excellent as an ordinary ghoul's, he trusted his hearing more than anything else. Rain or no rain. Now that he thought about it, how did this person even get close to him without alerting him? At that realization, he _knew_ that he was in trouble. He might've been in more pain than he realized.

While pain didn't really affect him like it did to any normal person, it still impeded his senses.

He wanted to curse right now. He _really_ needed to get away. As in, right this instant.

Standing up carefully with the assistance of the wall, he faced the direction of the woman's voice. There was the sound of muted pelting and assumed that she was hovering nearby with an umbrella over her head. The rain had been resilient and still going strong. He wondered if he should've invested for an umbrella of his own the moment he'd heard of the upcoming storm in the news when he'd made his stop at that coffee shop near the 3rd Ward. While the place was risky, he had to get creative with his trails.

"So," He started awkwardly. "I need to get going. Preferably, somewhere warm and cozy." He smiled at her widely as he picked up the strap of his shabby duffle bag. Thankfully, he'd thought ahead of wrapping his books and additional clothing in plastic.

To his trepidation, he hadn't managed to take a single step before a small hand wrapped around his wrist. The grip was surprisingly strong.

"Uh, miss?" He uttered out nervously, his nerves getting the better of him.

"You're not alright," She mumbled quietly but he understood her words even through the loud splatters of water around them. "You need to eat if you want those injuries to heal." She remarked rather intensely.

At that, he stiffened as he realized what he was dealing with.

She was a ghoul.

He remembered that it was just around three or four months ago when he was part of the group hunting down and killing off their kind. He would never be comfortable around ghouls. And the way she'd phrased it unsettled him. Why was she showing concern towards him? Could she smell the ghoul in him? Though, he couldn't help but mentally bash his head at the question. Of course, she did. After all, most ghouls identified him as a ghoul first. While his scent was abnormal to them, they barely smelled the human in him.

"They'll heal just fine." He found himself saying a bit anxiously as he tried to pull his hand away without being too obvious about it.

"You're blind." She countered swiftly, her grip now tight and bruising.

At those words, his lips thinned at the reminder. He had always known that Arima was ruthless. He had known the consequences of his own choices. The man had let him walk away but had taken his eyes as a warning that he only got away because the other had let him. While the way it had been conveyed was nothing but mocking, he supposed that he was grateful that the man had let him live at all. Or, as he now thought about it, hadn't he supposedly died once by his hands?

Subconsciously, his free hand went up to his face, to his flat and empty eyelids.

They had yet to heal. Though, they always took the longest to heal out of all the wounds, he later discovered on his own. So, in a way, he was already used to it.

"I'll manage," He smiled weakly as he now made a noticeable effort to get away by prying off her fingers with a trembling hand. It wasn't an easy feat considering how his own fingers were stiff and probably a bit blue due to the cold and the slippery rainwater didn't make it any easier.

To his apprehension, she didn't give in. Any tighter and she would break his wrist.

"Come on, you can stay at my place." She pulled him after her as he stumbled, caught off guard, and her voice rung with finality.

_Bossy_, his mind concluded.

In the end, he found out early on that he didn't have any choice in the matter.

**~o~**

The moment they entered a building, the distinct smell of coffee permeated his nose. And, _wow_, that rich aroma was enthralling. He had no doubt that if he had found this during his coffee expeditions then it would be a long time before he even thought of finding another. Though, before he could bask in the bittersweet scent tickling his nose, the girl who had yet to introduce herself pulled him and he had a hard time just keeping up with her brisk pace.

A faint sound of something whirring and dripping reached his ears as the lush fragrance got stronger. He assumed that he was around somewhere near a coffee maker and steamer. He was familiar enough with how coffee shops worked to be able to tell. So, were they in a coffee shop or did her house really just catered to coffee avidly?

"Where have you been?" A brisk voice suddenly cut in as heavy but methodical footsteps made itself known.

"I-I found him." The girl answered almost hesitantly as she sharply pulled him forward as if to present him to the unknown man.

Before he could ponder on her words better, he suddenly felt two large calloused hands cradling his face. He flinched abruptly at this and made to move away but the hands wouldn't let him. To his alarm, he realized that he hadn't noticed just how close the unknown man had been standing to him. Well, he supposed that he made a rare sight. His eyelids still felt heavy and stale and the itch was faint as to indicate a very slow-going process of recuperation.

In fact, he could still feel blood dribbling down his cheeks as they furiously bled.

Anxiously, he noticed that the man wouldn't be letting go anytime soon.

"Uhm," He forced out in a semi-strangled voice. "You can let go now, mysterious ghoul man." He bit the inside of his cheek as he realized the words that he'd unintentionally uttered. Though, to be honest, that was one way of calling them. He had not missed the fact that neither of the two had introduced their selves.

So had he, for that matter. But, to be fair, the girl had insisted on bringing him here despite his protests.

He didn't know what expression the man might've made but he wiped the trail of blood on his cheeks with the thumbs of his hands and proceeded to pry one of his eyelids open.

Hissing in slight discomfort as air hit the empty socket, he heard the girl from earlier curse. Yeah, it looked bad but it could've been a lot worse. A _lot_ worse.

"This isn't what 'let go' means, you know." He remarked wryly as he tugged on his still trapped wrist.

"Who did this?" She instead growled lowly, ignoring his question, as she stepped closer to him to, no doubt, get a better look of his face. He shifted backwards at this as this was something he wasn't entirely fond of advertising to anyone.

Not only was it telling that he was at his vulnerable state, it was still a very painful reminder.

Arima had always been poetic this way.

"I really need to get going…" He stated in response as he took a step back, just managing to shake her off.

"You're not going anywhere—" She was close to threatening him before she was cut off.

"Touka," The unknown man reprimanded while he breathed out sharply in relief, though, he filed away the name for later reference. "Don't be too reckless. I'm sure that you've already noticed." He continued grimly.

"Nii-san, you can't possibly be implying that we let him go—" She argued hotly, her voice tinged with disbelief and rage.

He didn't know what they were talking about. Or how it had anything to do with him. Obviously, the elder had more caution in dealing with him while the girl, _Touka_, was very adamant about keeping him here. To be honest, he had no intention of staying. In fact, he had no idea why he had even allowed himself to be brought here in the first place. He knew that he could've gotten away if he really wanted to. If he was desperate enough. His injuries spoke enough for him.

"You don't even know his name." The man interrupted her tonelessly.

To his surprise, she fell unusually silent and, if he didn't know any better, it was as if the man's words had pierced through her.

_Why_?

"I appreciate your need to help me," He declared to the sudden tension that saturated the air. "But, I assure you. I'll be fine." He smiled at them gratefully, as he clutched the strap of his duffle bag tightly.

"Before you go, have some coffee first." The girl's brother requested gently.

He felt the man grab his hand as he felt the smooth and soft fabric in his grasp. It was a handkerchief. Wordlessly and appreciatively, he brought it up to wipe away the blood streaks on his face and lightly dabbed it over his eyes to staunch some of the bleeding. Fortunately, the blood flow had gone sluggish and all he had to do was wait for the wound to dry before his regeneration finally finished his recovery. Hopefully, by tomorrow morning, he'd have his eyesight back.

Suddenly remembering that they were waiting for his answer, he laughed uneasily.

"Uhm," He bit his lip. "I guess I could use some coffee." He finally conceded.

After that, he was led to a table where Touka had told him to stay put. Though, he discovered then that he was indeed in a coffee shop. One that was ran by these odd ghoul siblings. Apparently, they had decided to close shop for today because of the lack of customers due to the heavy rain shower. Well, that was certainly fine, in his opinion, since he would probably just scare them away with his grotesque appearance. Most of his wounds had already healed by this point while the gash on his shoulder was almost finished.

A towel was handed to him and he only just remembered that he was soaking wet from the rain.

The consecutive scraping and the loud clatter of wood in front of him told him that the siblings had occupied the vacant seats across from him. He neatly folded the now extremely damped towel on the back of the chair beside him as he finished wiping off his hair and dried off where he could reach, careful not to jostle some of his injuries. A distinct clack made itself known on his side of the table as the rich aroma of coffee flooded his nostrils.

Almost immediately, his hands reached out for the warm cup and he had to fight off a sigh of relief as the heat thawed his cooling fingers.

"You're on the run." The man commented suddenly.

Twitching slightly in surprise at the straightforward words, he slumped in his seat. It was just _that_ obvious, really.

He felt his lips curve into a small helpless smile.

"Yes," He answered honestly as he idly traced the rim of his cup with a delicate finger.

"Why?" The younger of the two demanded tersely.

The rather abrupt questioning made him pause and he faced the direction of where he assumed Touka was seated. No blood trickled down his cheeks again but even just the slightest shift of his eyelids gave him a very uncomfortable wet and squishy feeling. The handkerchief laid forgotten on the table where it must've been completely soaked with his blood. To be honest, it had been a while since he had the time to simply sit down and actually earn a measure, no matter how small, of comfort.

He really didn't know what prompted him but the words out of his mouth were honest and sincere.

"I'm… uh, looking for someone." His smile never faltered as he continued, voice defeated. "So, I may have left behind certain commitments in order to do so." He thought of Akira and Arima and felt that familiar bitter sting of self-loathing.

That wound would never heal, would it? But, then again—

"To be honest," He continued as their unanticipated silence at his admission got to him. "I'm already working on borrowed time as it is." He exhaled softly as he brought the cup up close, savoring the bittersweet aroma.

"…borrowed…time?" The man repeated haltingly, voice tinged with sudden acuity.

He pursed his lips as he suddenly realized that he might have given away more than he should've done. Though, he knew, deep inside, that it had been nothing but the truth. The voice in his dreams was getting louder and it had become increasingly difficult to fight back with only a broken quinque. Not to mention, if he resorted to using his kagune, he didn't have the certainty that he could actually control it until the end and not possibly kill anyone.

The voice was getting progressively deafening. It wouldn't take long, really.

His time was borrowed. Back then, when he'd been selfishly focusing on his new life, intentionally letting himself be ignorant of the truth that had always lied within him, he hadn't exactly thought about it until it had been purposely brought up to slap him in the face. That was months ago.

When he finally gained his memories back, he would have to die.

That… was something he knew that was very much possible. He just hoped that by the end of it, he could keep remembering.

_Everything_.

Taking a sip of the coffee, his face morphed with surprise as the rich bittersweet flavor did wonders to his taste buds. The flavor behind it was so intense that he had to take a moment to let what he'd just tasted to sink in. So… bittersweet. The warmth. It felt so—

"Ah," He breathed out shakily as he felt something dripped down his cheek. "It must've started bleeding again." He mentioned around the sudden painful lump in his throat as he hastily wiped the liquid with the back of his hand only to feel more replacing them, both of his cheeks moist and damped.

Another fabric was handed out to him, probably another handkerchief, and he accepted it wordlessly as he cleaned his face. It was most likely Touka's. The scent he could garner from it was certainly more feminine with a hint of something saccharine.

It just wouldn't stop pouring. The scorching pain behind his eyes was distracting. He refused to acknowledge the familiar salty scent that only had a hint of the metallic iron of blood.

He didn't want to name it.

"Thank you," He forced out with more difficulty than he realized. "The coffee was good. It's really good. Just, uh, give me a moment." He jumbled out awkwardly as he tried not to sniffle and give himself away.

Though, he hiccupped and more tears flooded out. It was probably the stress finally getting to him, he supposed. After all, it had been months since he had simply sat down and tasted coffee this good and warm. For that matter, when was actually the last time? He thought of a hospital room, one where he'd been similarly blinded as he was right now, a warm voice reading to him words from a book from so long ago and the bland taste of coffee that wasn't supposed to be good but it was. Only because he didn't feel alone.

He thought of the warm hand on the top of his head as he was told what his new name was and the happiness as he thought that it was possible to belong. He thought of the person whom he looked up to and contemplated how he had simply left all of that behind.

He just couldn't keep it together. He couldn't stop now either.

Suddenly, there was a hand on the back of his head and he felt his face be pressed into something soft and warm. Followed by that, an arm laid itself around his shoulders and pulled him in. The scent was feminine in its fragrance with that familiar hint of something saccharine. _Touka_. She was hugging him. And since she was standing, his face was presumably buried on her middle and he didn't understand why she was doing this at all. He was just a stranger she just met some minutes or hours ago.

"Just let it out, idiot," She informed him softly and he was slightly taken aback by her gentleness.

Still, he didn't hug back or return the embrace. He just pressed his closed eyes and let himself bask in the warmth and drown in the affection she surprisingly provided him.

After all, this might be the last.

**~o~**

"What are you up to, Haise?" Akira lowly murmured as she gave him one of her patented narrow-eyed stares.

His hand, which was in the middle of reaching for a pen, paused and he gazed at Akira steadily. His lips thinned at her words as he avoided her gaze. Though, he remained quiet and didn't answer her inquiry. It wasn't a simple question that could be given a direct answer. At least, not without outright telling her.

He couldn't tell her. Or anyone, for that matter.

"You've been acting strangely ever since your last mission in the 23rd Ward." She continued when it was made apparent that he wouldn't be divulging any answers any time soon. "I've been watching you. You're always late to meetings and conferences these days. I can't keep covering for you forever. In fact, I shouldn't have to cover for you in the first place. And those strange disappearances… _what are you up to, Haise_?" She demanded as her face became stony.

Akira was his friend, wasn't she?

But—

"What are you talking about, Akira-san?" He laughed quietly as he went back to grabbing a pen in order to fill out the necessary paperwork.

"Don't play dumb with me." She rebutted harshly, voice low and biting.

He kept quiet. Because, honestly, just what was he supposed to say to that without openly lying to her face? Though, another question to be asked, what was he doing with himself these past few days? What was he doing _to himself_? He was surprised that he lasted this long. When that day came, he would have to be ready, wouldn't he? It was a hard pill to swallow. It was supposed to be confusing when one didn't know what he was doing in the first place, whom he was doing it for.

Somehow, it wasn't.

He was Sasaki Haise, wasn't he? So, why. He didn't know either.

"If you won't tell me, then _stop_." She carried on as she stood up, striding past his table and him as she went to the door. "Don't play with fire if you don't want to burn yourself." She remarked without looking back at him before exiting the office.

That wasn't friendly advice.

It was a warning. One that he would expect more from Arima than Akira. She never cared for trivialities and he was honestly anticipating to be outright threatened.

She was his friend. He couldn't tell her. Not now.

He just didn't know anymore.

**~o~**

"It's still raining," Touka murmured as they stood by the back entrance of the café.

"I'm not going to catch a cold." He laughed despite himself as he buried his hands in the warm pockets of the hoodie Touka's brother, _Ren_, had lent him. It was such a shame that it would get wet by the end of the day but he would definitely keep this as a memento of their kindness to him.

Something brushed lightly against his cheeks. He didn't know what it was.

"What's—" She cut herself off as she took a deep breath. "What should I call you?" She amended and there was a certain stillness in her voice that he couldn't seem to put his finger on.

At her words, he stilled.

He couldn't give _Haise_. That was an alias that was given to the ghoul within him. At the same time, he didn't think that _Sasaki_ would fit either. Sasaki was the ghoul investigator. He couldn't do something like that to Touka, a _ghoul_, who had reached out and helped him. But, then again, hadn't people always had their own brand for him? It differed greatly and whatever name he gave, it was something that she would acknowledge him as for a long time.

But, at the same time, he felt like he owed it to them. He couldn't lie.

"Just call me…" He smiled widely at this as he took a step back, tilting his head to the side as he felt the familiar dampness of the rain. "Sasaki Haise." He worded out almost playfully as he took another few steps back.

A full name was what she deserved, he supposed.

"Are you going to be alright?" Her voice faltered for some reason, something that he didn't want to acknowledge. "You're _blind_." She emphasized as if it would make him change his mind.

"It's fine, I can manage." He told her sincerely. "_Trust me_." There was an underlying tone to his words that belied his reasons behind his confidence.

He tried not to think of that coaxing voice as he stumbled after it like a child. The warmth in his hand as he was guided and taught how to adjust and function in the darkness that he had found himself in. This time, he only had himself to reawaken those lessons. No matter how much it reminded him of how he had been so dependent. It was the first time that someone had also taught him that he shouldn't be scared.

"Before you go," She echoed her brother's earlier words. "Tell me, _who_ did this to you?"

He cringed as he felt a soft finger delicately trace the rim of his left eye.

Whether it was due to the action itself or her words, he didn't know yet.

"My father," He admitted quietly as he tried not to think back on the feeling of how Narukami had painfully buried itself through his left eye, how he had been scrambling about through the pain and thoughts of _death, death, __**death**_—

The feeling back then had been unsettling. Only because it was so familiar.

"What kind of father would do this?!" She demanded shrilly with a healthy dose of disbelief and rage in her voice.

Somehow, in those trembling notes of anger, he imagined a bird with beautiful wings but with one of its wings broken.

"A selfish father." He laughed as he finally pivoted on his foot to walk away. "It was nice meeting you, Touka-san!" He shouted over his shoulder, just loud enough to be heard through the pouring rain.

With that, he ran.

He wished that he had his eyesight back sooner, especially right now.

Haise couldn't help but wonder what she looked like.

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><p>[:re] – "Route One"<p>

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><p>.<p>

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_TBC._


	2. Chapter 2: Spiral

**Author's Notes: **Whew, I got this working during break from work and am happy to deliver this. Hopefully, it doesn't disappoint. Though, please be reminded that the scenes aren't in order of timeline. Also, I'm trying to squeeze in writing time. Please, I posted those reminders that I'll be more free and be back in terms of writing by end of February and start of March so that readers won't be so restless if I didn't get to update my stories quickly. They're not useless announcements I've made on a whim since I'm still posting chapters regardless.

The real plot will start next chapter.

**Warning(s):** This world is set in Tokyo Ghoul:re. So, if you haven't read the manga, I'm warning you about confusion and possible spoilers. Also, this is a Canon-Divergence. This is set **before** Sasaki Haise met the Quinx. Also, **Gore. Angst. Drama. Possible tragedy.** The format is a bit jumbled up but I managed to fix it, hopefully.

**Note(s):** The parts with Arima and Akira are flashbacks. I'm slowly showing the reasons/thoughts with regards as to what made Haise leave the CCG in the first place. The present time, so to speak, is Haise's meeting with Washuu Yoshitoki and Aogiri. Sorry for the late warning.

**Pairing(s):** GEN. Hints, maybe. But, strictly, **GEN**. (And, no, I don't write yaoi, sorry, even if I'm a reader/fan of them)

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><p>Haise wearily wiped the blood on his hands with the handkerchief Akira had given him.<p>

He didn't know if it was his blood or another ghoul's blood.

While he was aware of the trust the CCG was giving him, he hadn't exactly expected to be assigned a solo mission so soon just a year and some few months into his term. By far, this latest mission was one of the most grueling he had to deal with. He half-wished that he had Akira with him, as his partner, but, even as he knew of the woman's strength, Haise would honestly prefer it if she was out of harm's way.

Better him than her.

Though, he had never liked the idea of killing anyone. Be it ghoul or human. But, what was he supposed to say when the wording of the mission parameters was to "eliminate"? At this moment in time, he hated himself for having the excuse that his hands were tied.

Was this a test? He didn't know.

The squad that he had to supposedly work with had only been on standby not to let anyone escape.

The only guarantee that he could present as the success of his mission was the number of kakuhou in the dark briefcase that the management had provided him for the mission. One that he'd left with the squad in order to be delivered to the Laboratory Division. He kept his expression neutral as to not give anything away. He didn't like this mission one bit. Not even a little. Though, he'd agreed on the terms that it would be the first and last unless it was a given due to dire situations.

For now, Haise decided that he didn't like it. Never again, if he could help it.

The 23rd Ward would never be a fond place to him.

It was either due to the massacre he had just commenced or because of what Kokuria, which was located there, actually represented for him. He should've given Porpora a word that he wouldn't be in touch for a while. The old ghoul might start to antagonize other investigators again in his subsequent absence, though.

Priorities. _Priorities_, _Haise_, he scolded himself.

Entering the main office, he finally let the tension from his frame to ease out of him.

One of the thoughts that relentlessly rang in his mind was that _it's over_. He had a conference he had to attend to in two hours and an hour before that to meet Akira. Approaching the front desk, he cleared his throat a bit loudly and was met by the startled face of the woman behind it. Her face brightened considerably before it faltered and a more controlled cheer took its place. While his nature was never an open fact to the whole agency, it hadn't exactly been kept secret that he was "different" from the other investigators.

What would these people think if they _knew_?

"Rank 2, Sasaki Haise." He reported dutifully as he waited for his time of return to be recorded. After all, the company was very meticulous in their system and he had gotten an earful from both Akira and Shimoguchi about either forgetting about this procedure or carelessly bypassing it that time that he'd been so excited to see Arima.

"Ah, Sasaki!" She suddenly exclaimed as she gave him a note. "Doctor Chigyou is looking for you."

Written on the note was the room number of one of the clinics that served as offices for doctors or researchers located underneath the headquarters.

His brow furrowed in confusion.

"He… is?" He muttered in a small bout of hesitation.

She nodded back at him affirmatively.

"Can this wait? I have to see Akira-san first and give my report about that latest operation at the 23rd Ward—" He started to say as his hand tightened a bit around the paper, feeling a bit anxious about this.

"It's urgent." The woman merely told him.

Haise shifted uneasily. He still reeked of blood, his uniform had tears and cuts, and he had a spare uniform in his and Akira's shared office. She had been the one who had to eventually bully him into keeping a spare there in the event that going home after a long mission wasn't an immediate option. As her partner, he was required to concede to some of her policies and sanitation had been one of her conditions.

If this sudden meeting with Chigyou took longer, he would've to go to the conference in nothing but the clothes he had now.

Something that Akira would certainly not be pleased with.

"Uhm, maybe I can go let Akira-san know—" He tried again only to be rebuffed for the second time.

"The doctor is waiting for you." She smiled at him and it wasn't pleasant.

Right, she never liked him, for some reason. It bothered him, to be honest. No matter how much Akira told him that he shouldn't care and just ignore it. He couldn't help but marvel just how tough the other was. Compared to Akira, he was easily troubled by the smallest of things.

Wearily, he went to the staircase that led to the lower ground floor. Opposite to the elevator or stairwell to his office or even the conference room. Hopefully, this wouldn't take too long and, if it did, he just wished that Akira would be forgiving.

That day, Haise was absent from the conference.

**~o~**

"Arima-san wasn't kidding," He laughed as he sat across the pristine looking man.

To his shock, the other stood up and gave him a formal bow. His head quickly swiveled around them and noted the curious looks the other customers of the coffee shop were giving them. His widened eyes then merely stared at the man who seemed to be amused at his reaction. He cautiously stared at the man as he finally sat back down. Though, even if he trusted the other, he didn't bother removing the flat cap covering his unusual hair or the round-framed sunglasses that covered a good deal of his face.

"I see that you're doing well, Sasaki-kun." Washuu Yoshitoki, the CCG's Bureau Director, greeted him.

"Well, I've had days to recuperate after that confrontation with Arima-san's squad." He momentarily lowered his sunglasses to let the man see his now perfectly healed grey eyes. "Though, to be honest, the moment I came here, I was actually expecting two squads waiting to subdue me." He chuckled a bit uneasily as he fixed his sunglasses back into their original position.

"Only Arima knows about this meeting." Yoshitoki assured him.

"That doesn't exactly sound reassuring," He pointed out with a small smile. "To be fair, why do you want to talk to me in the first place, director? As far as CCG is concerned, I'm a wanted ghoul." He pointed out as he subtly sniffed the scent of coffee permeating air around them.

It lacked the richness of the coffee from the café that he had the pleasure of visiting a month ago. He still had Ren's hoodie neatly folded in his duffle bag.

"We both know that we can still change that." The man leaned forward with interlaced hands, eyes shining with intent.

"I think convincing an agency of ghoul investigators to work with a half-ghoul like myself will not go over well," He remarked as his smile fell short, melancholy brewing in his expression. "You _know_ what I did that day. They've seen it, what I'm capable of as a ghoul." He reminded the man almost gently.

The day, if he dared to sound poetic, that his world had turned upside down.

He would never forget Akira's face as his kagune slammed her into a nearby building. He still had never forgiven himself for that. Even as he repented to Arima, on his hands and knees, it would never change the fact that he chose what he was now today. He remembered the pain of losing his eyes just a month ago. The time when Arima had let him go. Ruthless, unforgiving. Still, he couldn't regret it. Certainly not now.

"I'm certain that Arima has informed you about the recent project." Yoshitoki stated solemnly, lips thinning.

At that, he jolted as a deep frown emerged from his face.

"_**Quinx**_, was it?" He murmured almost absentmindedly as he forced himself to look away from the director. "If truth be told, I already heard about it from Chigyou. Back then, I haven't really given it much thought until Arima told me about it. Will the CCG really resort to turning their own investigators into monsters?" He questioned as he removed his sunglasses, staring the man directly in the eyes in order to convey his real thoughts about the matter.

"That's why I need _you_ to make it work." Yoshitoki merely countered calmly.

Though, he noticed that the man had bypassed his deliberate mentioning of the head of CCG's Laboratory Division. His experiences there were best left behind closed doors. Where, hopefully, they would never be given light again.

"Frankly, director, I'm against this project." He admitted as he methodically folded his sunglasses and put it on the table.

At those words, the man sighed and his expression bled off of deep-seated exhaustion.

What did it exactly take to ask someone who was very much supposed to be an enemy for something this important? To be honest, he didn't know what guarantee they had that he wouldn't intentionally mess up this project if he even considered agreeing in the first place. In fact, the man hadn't really answered his question, had he? That only meant that the CCG really would push through with this. With or without him.

The only thing he felt about it all was sadness. The way the world had come to.

"Would you really not reconsider this, Sasaki-kun?" Yoshitoki questioned him again, gaze weary.

"I'm so sorry, Director Washuu." He answered apologetically, he owed it to the other. "Even if I did consider it, please remember that I left the CCG for a reason. I'm working on a time limit as it is and I have my own priorities at the moment." He rubbed the back of his neck in slight discomfort at this disclosure.

"How does life on the run serve you?" The man leaned back, finally sensing that he wouldn't really agree.

He couldn't help it. He laughed.

"It's… livable?" He attempted and was only met by the other's nonplussed stare. "It isn't easy, I'll admit. As a matter of fact, I've been nothing but frustrated these past few months. Though, I think part of being on the run doesn't include having an almost pleasant conversation with the man who leads the people after me." He smiled to himself exasperatedly as he shifted in his seat at the reminder of who he was just talking to.

"Sasaki-kun, for what it's worth—" Yoshitoki started saying, frowning.

He cut him off before the words were out.

"Don't." He cautioned more tersely than he realized. "Just, _don't_, director. I'm aware of the actions that I've taken. I'm also aware that the next time we meet, it won't be on good terms like this one." He stopped there, staring back at the man steadily.

The man nodded back at him slowly, eyes calculating.

"You're a very strange individual, Sasaki-kun," Washuu told him with a searching gaze. "If you've stayed, you would've made an excellent mentor."

That was a lie.

Not with the way things were now.

**~o~**

His eyes fluttered open.

The pain that momentarily blinded him almost made him wish he hadn't. Still, he blinked them rapidly to wave off the ache and was met by a familiar sterile ceiling. For a moment, his limbs stilled. Then, before he was aware of his actions, he had tried to sit up. He needed to get away. Make some excuse. He _always_ had those. Needed them. Though, his head immediately snapped to the side from where a hand had clamped down on his shoulder and tried to restrain him from moving.

"I-I—" He stuttered incoherently, headache pulsing behind his eyes.

"Haise, _calm_ _down_." Akira's sharp voice pierced his hearing and, like a puppet with its strings cut, he sagged on the bed in a boneless heap.

Relief overwhelmed him. To the point that it was painful. His lower back throbbed at the thought.

"W-Where am I?" He questioned weakly.

For a moment, he was afraid of knowing the answer.

He watched as the blonde woman reclaimed her seat from beside his bed. She must've stood up when he had panicked. Still, his eyes wildly surveyed his surroundings. White walls, bedside table with a vase of flowers, a needle and tube stuck in his vein that was connected to a machine which presumably monitored his RC levels, and the room was _bare_. For a moment, he patted his right side and the phantom pain was nonexistent today.

Throughout it all, Akira's eyes never left him and he felt a peculiar kind of shame well up within him.

"You're in Doctor Shiba's clinic." She eventually answered him, her violet eyes observing him intently. "Who was that ghoul?" She questioned him lowly, a certain force in her voice that made him give out a tired sigh.

Of course. He remembered now. _That_ ghoul.

"I don't know." He answered in a slow breath, trying to recall the pain (_it burned_) of forcing out his kagune only to be brutally cut down like he had been nothing.

He also recalled. He'd been left alive.

Just when it seemed that all hope was lost, the ghoul had let him live.

(_"I'm not a murderer."_)

His head pulsed with agony and he gritted his teeth as he cradled it with a hand. There was a coppery taste in his mouth that really wasn't there. It was like recalling a taste of something from so long ago and it had lingered and stayed with him. Fingers painfully tugged at his two-toned hair and he wondered if all the ache that was pulsing with his heartbeat was really there or just another recollection of something that didn't exist.

For some reason, those words burned him in a way that nothing had ever done before.

"Haise, get a hold of yourself!" Akira barked at him harshly as she held his wrist in a bruising grip, the one which hand was pulling at his hair.

He tugged at the strands tightly, earning him a reproaching look, but he had always known that pain grounded him.

It always did.

"I don't know." He repeated almost breathlessly as he released the two-toned locks, eyes staring at the blonde woman with shaky ash grey orbs. "I'm… _alive_. I don't understand." He shook his head in a sincere bout of confusion, trying to keep up with the sudden restlessness of his mind.

"What happened back there?" She questioned him, gently this time. "Releasing your kagune had never been an issue of pain. _What_ happened back there? Are you losing control again? Hearing voices? You have to tell me these things if you don't want any casualties on your conscience." Despite the severity of her words, her voice was unusually placid in their coaxing, a note of concern that he didn't want to look deeply into.

He didn't want to see the level of sincerity he would find. Akira was his friend. His partner, superior.

What good would it really do? He didn't know what he'd been doing to himself.

"He's quiet." He admitted tiredly, closing his eyes as he lied down on the bed, trying not to let any panic or anxiety to settle within his limbs at this very familiar arrangement. "I didn't hear him even once during that fight." He answered honestly as he stared at Akira's eyes that held a trace of doubt. But, it was the truth. He couldn't even recall anything other than the pain, helplessness, as panic seized him at that very moment.

And, he knew why.

_He felt my pain_, he thought to himself. No, that wasn't right. _He's in pain, too_.

Staying rigid, he fought the urge to claw at his right side or lower back.

(_"The CCG…"_ The ghoul had paused and despite the mask that concealed his features, Haise got the impression that the other was staring at him directly in the eyes. _"Are they treating you right?"_)

Sadly, it was an inquiry he hadn't answered.

It was almost as if the other was _concerned_ about him. That man, that ghoul, he spoke as if he knew what the CCG was really capable off. More than the average ghouls who fought with vengeance and bloodlust. It scared him. Even as he laid beaten on the ground, fighting hard to stand up despite the rational part of his mind yelling at him to retreat, that a dead investigator was no good, he wanted to reach out and remove that mask. And see for himself—

"See to it that it doesn't happen again." Akira suddenly cut in, an odd tone to her voice. "You could've died." She emphasized as something intense flashed in her eyes that, for a moment, he almost thought that he imagined it.

Not knowing what to really say, he gave her a smile that he hoped was reassuring.

"It's fine, I heal fast, right?" He awkwardly reminded her, ignoring his own discomfort at the perceived advantage of his ghoul nature.

Her lips thinned.

"Don't be too reckless with your life, Haise." Her voice had gone low, reminiscent to that time when she had told him to never play with fire. "Just because you have your regeneration doesn't mean that you can be careless with it. No matter what the CCG may have implied, you're still someone that matters." Her words were clip and brusque but the intensity behind them was even more profound and he stared at her with wide eyes.

He wanted to believe her. He really did. But, it was a little late for that, wasn't it?

_Liar_, his mind whispered in a small voice, defeated but accepting.

"Yeah, you're right." He allowed himself to say as he rubbed his chin. "Thank you, Akira-san."

Too late. Not now.

_Not when I'm beginning to be useless. Then, I'll be discarded like I've always known._

**~o~**

"Fancy seeing you here!" He greeted them cheerfully as he waved at the two cloaked figures across from the expanse of rubble between them. They were currently in one of the abandoned warehouses near the 20th Ward. To be honest, this was the safest place he could think of where no doves would start pouncing on them unexpectedly again and just practical enough that Aogiri couldn't think of assaulting him directly. At least, not without calling unnecessary attention to themselves.

Judging from the wide berth they're demonstrating, they knew that as well. Not that it stopped them from approaching, anyways.

"What the fuck is up with that greeting?" The taller of the two immediately demanded crudely, his visible blue eyes narrowing at him suspiciously. "You didn't bring those doves with you again, did you?" His kakugan flared as he uttered those words.

"Not this time." He deflated as he answered warily.

"It's the least you could do after you abruptly disappeared on us after rescuing your ungrateful ass, you bastard." The other snarled at him as his eyes went back to their original cobalt hue while he frowned at those words.

He scratched the back of his head in slight discomfort.

"Thanks for that." He merely said softly, not daring to let his real thoughts to leak into his voice.

So, he was right. He once encountered Aogiri in the past. One that seemed to be long-lasting in impression to actually save him from the CCG. He didn't have to work on what he wanted them to see after all. Right now, they had the advantage. They knew _him_. Frighteningly enough, they knew this fact well if their want to make contact with him even after that disaster a month ago was anything to go by.

Arima was right. He was really a disaster waiting to happen, wasn't he?

_Useless_, a voice inside his head hissed.

"So, you really deserted those bastards and they're after your head." The cloaked individual took a simple foreboding step forward as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing in an obvious display of disdain. "Why go so far?" He asked with a strong amount of distrust.

Not that Haise trusted Aogiri in the first place either.

"I'm looking for someone." He merely answered and watched as the shorter of the two went rigid at his words.

"And you left, just like that, huh?" The other sneered at him. "Is that why you sought us out? Because you think we know whoever the fuck you're looking for?" The taunt was pretty obvious but he didn't give in and merely nodded.

"I _know_ that Aogiri knows him." He replied quietly, pursing his lips as he tried not to let them see how troubled he was currently feeling.

For a moment, there was stillness.

Then, there was a scoff.

"What makes you think it'll be that easy?" The question was spoken softly, a rather menacing timbre to it that had Haise on his guard.

This ghoul never liked him. The feeling was mutual. In fact, he felt uneasy just interacting with him. He mused that it must be the reason why this was the executive always sent out to deal with him. Because, the only explanation he could come up with, this ghoul knew him. Or used to know him. And it unnerved him. The first time he felt this sense of apprehension was when his eyes had first healed and he caught his first glimpse of Arima.

He should've known.

"It's not supposed to be easy." He responded calmly despite the way his hand subconsciously clenched by his side.

"Though, leaving those doves seems easy enough, right?" A raised eyebrow and a flat voice and he flinched at the words. He tried hard not to think too deeply into it. He tried not to think back on the lending hand always given to him and the tentative trust shown to him. All destroyed.

Just. Like. _That._

He didn't say anything.

"That's what you've always been good at, isn't it?"

A quiet voice interjected and he watched as the shorter of the two stepped forward, finally addressing him since this meeting started. Something in her voice was nagging at him as her words slowly registered itself in his head.

"_Abandoning_ people…"

Despite the nature of her words, there was no malice in her voice.

It was just empty. A matter-of-fact. Even the soft curve of what was visible of her face showed nothing.

His heart gave a painful lurch at her words and he tried his hardest to appear unaffected. Judging by the derisive sniff he heard from the taller of the two, he wasn't exactly successful in his attempt. Still, _still._ He tried not to think of Akira, how he would sometimes accompany her to the long lines of gravestones by the windy afternoon, and how she would dutifully bring in flowers for three people who had left her behind. He didn't want to even contemplate if he factored in that list.

"Is…" He tentatively started, his obvious bypassing of her words notwithstanding. "Is your shoulder fine?" He asked as his brows furrowed, trying to mask any concern he felt.

The girl tilted her head.

"It's fine." She nodded at him slowly. "You didn't even take that big of a bite." She murmured calmly.

"I see." His words were delivered evenly but his heartbeat had increased its pace and he didn't even want to think about how that simple bite had helped him survive this following month. The taste was still distinct in his tongue. He had been so preoccupied with his last encounter with Arima, bringing up regrets, old and new, that he had nearly forgotten what it was exactly like to live with a ghoul's hunger. Even now, he would admit guiltily that he hadn't even thought of his last encounter with these two until now.

Still, they met him here for a reason.

He needed to get away. Now. There was a tension in the air that hadn't been there during prior meetings with Aogiri. Such was not the time, it seemed.

"We've danced around the subject long enough, haven't we?" He smiled at them as he buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Even with her mask, he felt her eyes on him. On his face. And he wondered whom she saw. The voice in his head was strangely quiet. He would've thought that this would be one of those times _he_ would force his way out. Somehow, all he felt was a heavy lingering presence that he usually associated to an unknown grief.

Was this what it felt like to have your heart broken?

To his trepidation, the girl stepped forward and slowly removed her mask, showing half of her face. A visible russet orb pinning him in his place as their eyes met for the first time. Her companion was strangely quiet and he deduced that he was letting her handle this.

_How sad,_ he thought. _Why do I feel sad?_

"Join Aogiri."

**~o~**

"A-Arima-san?" He called out hesitantly.

There were the nearly silent footsteps that slowly approached his hospital bed. Still, his eyes remained close. His heartbeat was painfully thundering inside his ribcage and his blood was roaring in his ears. He clenched his hands to hide their tremors. He didn't understand.

This _fear_. Pure and raw.

"You have to open your eyes and see for yourself, Haise." Arima replied softly, a certain good-natured lilt in his voice that was almost hinting of humor. His voice had always been a source of peace for him, especially when the man read those amazing stories during his recovery. But now, it was ringing with an apathy he knew that he was only imagining but he couldn't get it out of his head and words from a poem he couldn't even recall caressed the edges of his memory.

Though, he merely stilled.

He didn't want to open his eyes and see. Looking at Arima was like meeting death by the face. There was something in his eyes that he didn't think he'd ever reached and understand. His first glimpse of the man, he would've thought that he would see beauty for the first time. Because, for all the times that he had interacted with Arima, he had easily associated beauty to the man. There was something about him that he could just sympathize to.

So, why was he so, _so_ afraid?

Still, despite his hesitation, he did open them and stared at the white haired man through newly healed eyes.

"It's good to see you again." He said quietly.

_I can't look at you,_ his mind uttered with a certain desperation he couldn't comprehend.

Arima gave a ghost of a smile.

"Likewise."

**~o~**

"You already know that he won't accept." Her companion pointed out matter-of-factly, almost to the point of boredom.

She exhaled slowly and simply lowered her head as she made certain that her mask was secured.

A small smile appeared on her lips.

"It's never too late." She merely replied, trying not to think about those hauntingly familiar pair of quicksilver eyes. "I'm not a little girl anymore. And I'm not going to let things go again without trying." She declared as she strode ahead of the other.

It's not too late.

After all, he was still alive. For now, that was all that mattered.

* * *

><p>[:re] – "Spiral"<p>

* * *

><p>.<p>

.

.

_TBC._


End file.
